


Love is a Battlefield

by Peregrine_Took



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - 13 Going On 30 Fusion, Evil Boston Bruins, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, just letting ya know now, sorry y'all, there are a lot of metaphors in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 15:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15173528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peregrine_Took/pseuds/Peregrine_Took
Summary: All Tyler wanted was to grow up and play hockey.





	Love is a Battlefield

**Author's Note:**

> Not only is this fic Unbeta'd, it's also incredibly self indulgent. As always comments are extremely appreciated and even help the writing process: ;)
> 
> Warnings will be updated as more chapters are posted  
> \- F-slur used in the first chapter

Tyler and Jamie had just finished their power play drill and were making their way back to the bench. “If you hang onto the puck for even just a fraction of a second longer, it’ll give me more time to get into position.” Jamie nods, tapping his stick against Tyler’s.

  
“That’s what she said.” Tyler looks away from Jamie where Brad is drifting over from the group standing behind the blue line.

  
Jamie rolls his eyes and turns his back to him. He looks at Tyler as if he’s trying to communicate privately, “I’m going to head out, but I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” Tyler nods, confused, and watches as Jamie skates back to the bench.

  
“Do whatever you want Chubbs, its not like he needs a play by play.” Marchy calls over his shoulder and a few of the guys nearby laugh. Jamie tenses up, back straightening, rigid. He glances once more at Tyler before leaving the ice.

  
Tyler watches him go but doesn’t open his mouth, he knows Brad is just joking. It’s just team jokes, it’s fine. “Marchy, what’s up?” Tyler turns to him and plasters a smile on his face, really tries to make it genuine.

  
“Hey Tyler,” Brad’s smile doesn’t seem genuine, more sordid than anything. “I ah- I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it to your birthday party this weekend.”

Tyler balks at him for a moment, “What? But- but why?”

  
“We have a group project due in Bettman’s class, a paper, should probably work on that. You understand right?” The rest of the guys are standing behind him looking on expectantly. He makes eye contact with Bergy, but quickly looks away before he can do anything stupid. When he looks back at Brad, there’s an appraising look in his eyes. Tyler knows that they would come if not for the paper, and honestly he already has his done, another wouldn’t really be that big of a deal.

  
“I could write it for you?” He offers.

  
“Oh really?” The surprise in his voice and his expression is enough to lift Tyler’s spirits.

  
“Oh yeah! It’s no problem, really. It’ll take no time at all.” Brad nods and smiles at Tyler.

  
“I guess we’ll all see you there then.” He drifts back towards the bench, and when Tyler looks around the other guys are leaving too. Tyler realizes practice must have already ended. “Patrice too.”

  
Brad winks, then turns around before he can see Tyler’s reaction, but that doesn’t make the shocked and worried expression any less prevalent. There’s no way he knows, there’s no way he can know.

  
The anxiety eats at Tyler and he stays out on the ice for another half an hour, shooting pucks at the empty net until his thoughts are muddling his shot more than his sore wrists.

  
He packs his equipment and makes his way home, where his mom and dad are already moving around the kitchen and dining room, setting up dinner. They ask how practice was and he replies in an enthusiastic enough manner that they don’t ask questions.

  
He asks his mom to call Jamie’s mom, " _we can’t hang out tonight, I got another homework assignment from Mr. Bettman_ ", and before she can really ask any questions he moves to his bedroom to work on Brad’s paper.

 

  
  
It doesn’t end up being difficult as Brad had made it sound, but he gets it done regardless, printing off a copy and leaving it on the desk under the stairs so he doesn’t forget to give it to Brad after the party.

  
“Tyler.” Tyler looks up from the table of snacks he’s been fretting over to see Jamie standing at the top of the stairs holding a box poorly wrapped in ribbon. “Happy birthday.”

  
He makes his way down the stairs and Tyler makes grabby hands for the box which Jamie hands over with a quiet laugh.

  
“I just want to say that you hate it, I can always find you something else.”

  
Tyler shoots him a suspicious look, but rips through the ribbon anyway, and slides the lid off the box.

  
Inside is one of their team jerseys, the white name plate stands out against green and gold jersey, and Tyler looks up at Jamie confused. “You’re giving me your jersey?”

  
Jamie runs a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous, and sighs heavily. “Yeah, I don’t-.” He takes a deep breathe, “I can’t keep playing, I wanted to finish out the season, but there’s just-, I just need to be done.” He looks up from his hands, and Tyler can see the misery in his expression.

  
“You can’t be done, Jamie.” Tyler pulls the jersey closer to him, “You’re so good, we were gonna go to the NHL together.” Jamie looks like he’s about to say something, but Tyler doesn’t stop there. “You’re too good a player to just quit like this out of the blue.”

Jamie looks back down at his hands and then steps in closer to Tyler. “Tyler, I need to tell you something.”

  
He hesitates too long, and before he’s able to say anything, Tyler’s mom opens the basement door. Jamie takes a step back, seemingly surprised by the sudden noise, “Tyler, the rest of your team is here.”

  
“Okay, just send ‘em down.” Tyler quickly puts the lid back on Jamie’s jersey and hands the box back over to him, “Would you mind putting this in the closet,” He gestures behind him, “I appreciate it, I do, but you aren’t going to be done with hockey. We’ll talk about this later.”

  
Jamie looks terse, but he sets the jersey in the closet like Tyler asks as the rest of their team comes down the stairs to the basement.

  
“Hey Seguin, you said we’re skating on the pond out back later, right?” Tyler hadn’t, but he nods anyway, it’s not like skating is a hardship.

  
“Yeah no problem, guys. Why don’t you make yourself at home, I have uh, snacks and the game will be on in a little bit.” He gestures to the tv, currently playing the NHL network in the corner of the room.

  
Jamie comes out from behind him and lays a hand on his shoulder, “I didn’t know we were skating.” Tyler shrugs and shoots him a look that says, ‘yeah neither did I, but drop it’, and Jamie nods solemnly but knowingly.

  
“Okay, well then I’m gonna run over to my house and grab my skates.” He heads off past the group, now standing around the table of food, and heads up the stairs. Brad levels a look at Tyler, and for some reason it makes Tyler feel shameful.

  
“Do whatever you want Chubbs, its not like I need a play by play.” The guys laugh, but Jamie just look hurt as he disappears up the stairs.

The look on his face makes Tyler want to run after him and pry whatever information out of Jamie he can, but Tyler notices everyone is just standing around awkwardly and he can feel the heavy anxiety creeping in at the edges of his conscious. “I’m going to put on some music.” He says to no one in particular, turning on the ball of his heal towards the stereo in the corner of the room.

  
He sits down and pulls the box of cds into his lap. He’s shuffling through his box, when Brad saunters over and leans against the cabinet.

  
“You know, I was talking to Bergy earlier today.” Tyler’s head snaps up to meet Brad’s gaze, and his heart rate picks up instantly in his chest.

  
“What about?”

  
He’s quiet for a moment, just looking at Tyler, “Ya know, I have an idea. If you go wait in the closet I’ll tell Patrice, and he’ll meet you in there.”

  
The ringing in Tyler’s ears is deafening and he can feel his face burning. “What are you talking about?” He tries to make it sound casual but the fear in his voice comes through blatantly.

  
“Tyler, don’t worry.” Brad swings an arm over Tyler’s shoulder and leans in close to whisper in his ear, “I know you’re a fag.”

  
Tyler pushes away from Brad and forces out a laugh that’s too loud, “What the fuck are you talking about Marchy? I- I’m not a faggot.” He ducks his head low and keeps his voice quiet, he doesn’t want the whole team to hear what Marchy’s saying.

  
“Hey, I don’t care if you take it up the ass, Tyler,”  Brad stands up and gestures to the closet door, “like I said Patrice is going to meet you in there.”

  
Tyler lets out a nervous laugh, “Come on Brad.”

  
“Tyler, I’m not fucking with you.” He pulls his toque off and closes the distance between them. “Here.” He puts it on Tyler’s head, pulling it over his ears then eyes, and then lays his hands on Tyler’s shoulders, and guides him towards where he knows the closet is.

  
"Just wait in here and I’ll go tell him." Tyler nods even though he thinks Brad is already gone. He lets out a shaky breathe and sits down, leans back against the bookshelf and waits, his heart beating out of his chest and masking the sounds of low voices outside of the door.

  
It really feels like hours have gone by with how panicked he is at this point, so when he hears the door open, he lets out a loud shaky breathe.  The toque doesn’t allow in much light, but he can feel the nice cool air from the main room.

  
“I thought you weren’t going to come.” He says, somehow keeping his cool enough to breathe evenly. Patrice doesn’t say anything, but Tyler can hear his shallow breathing, he reaches out his arms, “Come closer.” He almost flinches when he first feels his hands, but he interlaces their fingers, and leans forward. He can almost feel Patrice’s breathe on his lips, “Patrice.”

  
“What? It’s not Patrice, it’s Jaime.” Jamie shoves away from Tyler hard enough that Tyler’s shoulders dig into the bookshelf behind him.

  
He whips off the toque and stands up. “What?” Sure enough, Jamie is standing there looking incredibly hurt and unpleasantly surprised. “Where is he?”

  
“Patrice?” Tyler shoves by Jamie and looks around into the empty basement. “He’s gone, everyone left.”

  
Tyler can feel his face heat up in embarrassment and he turns to Jamie “What did you do?” Tyler shoves at Jamie’s shoulders, pushing him back a few feet.

  
“Nothing.” Jamie says defensively.

  
“Yes you did!” Tyler shoves him again.

  
“No I didn’t! I just went to grab my skates!”

He gestures to where they sit on the table, but the embarrassment and fear strikes through Tyler quickly and painfully and he pushes past Jamie, going back into the closet, and slamming the door behind him. “Get out!” He yells through the door.

  
“Wait, Tyler, please. Let me talk to you.”

  
“Get out. No!” Tyler pounds on the wooden door.

  
“Tyler, please, just come out. We can go skate and forget about everyone.”

  
“I hate you.” God this is all his fault. “I hate me!” None of this would have happened if he’d just ignored Marchy, pretended like he didn’t know what he’d been talking about.

  
“Tyler, please.”

  
“I just want to be older. I just want to be done with all this stupid stuff.” He leans his head on the door. “I want to be in the NHL, I just want to be done with all this.” He repeats it to himself like a prayer until all he can register are the tears in his eyes and the overwhelming feeling of his own self-loathing.

  
It almost feels like every breathe he takes is becoming harder too dredge up, his ribs acting like a cage, and he can’t get enough air. Before he can do anything to catch himself, his vision fades around the edges, and he passes out.


End file.
